


The Benefits of Broken Bones

by Katiebug445



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 2019!, Kid Fic, M/M, Modern AU, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 13:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katiebug445/pseuds/Katiebug445
Summary: When Jean accidentally causes Armin to break his arm, his punishment is to hang out with the blond until he gets his cast off. But what starts off as a forced friendship quickly turns into a real one as the summer progresses.





	The Benefits of Broken Bones

_ Okay, this is it, _ he thought to himself, looking down over the edge of the platform.  _ Just swing your arm out and hold on.  _ Armin gripped the hot metal in his hands and dangled his feet out over the edge, noting quickly to himself how far of a drop it was to the ground. He cautiously looked up, his fingers starting to feel numb with how hard he was hanging onto the bar. His arms shook with the effort of holding up his body, and he knew if he didn’t act soon, he would end up on the ground. 

 

He hadn’t anticipated in any way how hard it would be to hold himself up like this. A small whimper escaped his throat and he gripped the bar a little tighter, wondering if he could manage to make it back to the platform even though he couldn’t see it now. He could feel his fingers begin to slip with sweat, and panic began to climb its way up his skull. 

 

The next bar wasn’t  _ too _ far in front of him. Maybe if he were quick, he could grab it, and everything would still be okay. Maybe he could--

 

“HI, ARMIN!” 

 

With a scream, Armin lost his grip on the bar, and fell to the ground, landing on his left arm with all of his weight behind it. Pain immediately flared up the limb, which got even worse when he tried to move it. Another, louder, scream ripped its way up and out of his mouth, and he stared at his twisted wrist in horror. 

 

Suddenly, people were surrounding him, though he couldn’t make out the faces with tears blurring his sight. 

 

“Move, everyone, move! I need to see him.” Armin blinked the tears out of his eyes, and looked up to see Mr. Levi standing there, a little freaked out at what was happening. “Are you alright?” He asked.

 

All Armin could manage was a shake of his head before more tears clouded his vision. He was trying so hard not to start screaming again, not with all of his friends standing around him. They would tease him forever if he started screaming or crying even harder, but everything hurt and his wrist looked really weird, and every move made the pain worse. He whimpered, and Mr. Levi was helping him to his feet, gently taking the elbow on his hurt arm and pushing it against his chest. 

 

“Keep it there if you can.” He instructed. “I’m gonna take you home, alright? Can you walk?” 

 

Armin did as instructed, inhaling a couple shaky breaths and giving Mr. Levi a nod before taking a couple shaky steps forward. Mr. Levi said something to the other kids, and then the two of them were off. 

 

“Just keep breathing, kiddo. You’re gonna be alright.” 

 

Armin nodded, more tears slipping down his cheeks. Now that he was away from everyone else, they had started falling more rapidly, and he sniffled. He just wanted the pain to stop. 

 

“That was a pretty nasty fall you had back there. What happened?” 

 

“I-I sli-hi-hi-ipped.” He cried. 

 

“Butter fingers?” 

 

“W-what’s that?” 

 

Levi cleared his throat. “Never mind. Are you okay other than your arm?” 

 

Armin tried to think around the pain causing his entire arm to hurt if he was, in fact, okay, but couldn’t. All he could focus on was his wrist, and the odd angle it was bent at, and if it would have to be taken off, or what else would happen to him once he got home. His breathing had gotten faster, and another whimper strangled its way up and out of his mouth, and suddenly he didn’t want to go home. 

 

“Hey, hey, Armin. You’re alright. You’re gonna be alright. It’s just a broken bone.” Levi said, trying to calm him down before he started yelling again. “It’s okay.” 

 

A broken bone? What did that mean? What was going to happen to his hand if it was broken? He tried to ask, but nothing except a panicked scream came out of his mouth. 

 

Mr. Levi swore, and, with strength Armin didn’t realize he had, scooped the young boy up and carried him the rest of the way home. 

 

After what felt like an eternity, they were at his house, and Levi was knocking at the door. After a moment, Armin’s grandpa answered, and Levi explained what happened. His grandpa gave him a sad look, thanked Mr. Levi for bringing him home, and asked if he would wait there for a second. His grandpa disappeared again, leaving the two of them by themselves. 

 

Levi dropped down to his knee in front of him and, after having to try for a moment to get his attention, gave Armin a tiny smile. “They’re gonna take you to the hospital and fix your arm, okay? It’s gonna hurt. Bad. But you can be brave and get through it, right?” 

 

Armin managed a quick nod. 

 

“Good. Remember to be brave, though, alright?” 

 

The door opened again, and Mr. Arlert stepped outside, taking Armin’s good hand in his, and getting his car key ready in the other. He got Armin situated in the car, and stood outside for a second to talk to Mr. Levi. Armin leaned his head back against the backseat and cried, keeping his arm where Mr. Levi had told him to while he waited. He felt a tiny bit better now that he was back with his grandpa; he would never let anything bad happen to him. 

 

He looked up, and Mr. Levi was taking off back down the street, and his grandpa was opening the car door. He gave Armin a tiny smile and started the engine, carefully backing out of the driveway and onto the street. 

 

“You’ll be alright, son.” His grandpa told him. “We’ll get you fixed up soon.” 

 

~

He was rushed into the emergency room by his grandpa, and walked right up to the front desk. Mr. Arlert quickly explained what happened, and after a few short moments, he was being taken back by a couple nurses, and away from his grandpa. Armin called out to him, but it seemed as though the old man couldn’t hear him. He tried again, but the nurse told him that his grandpa needed to wait for him out there. 

 

Panic started creeping up on him again, and every step he took that led him away from his grandfather only increased it. Eventually, he was taken into a room with lights so bright they hurt his eyes, lifted up onto a bed, and a funny picture was taken of his hurt arm. Then a different nurse told him that he would need to get a shot. 

 

“No shots.” Armin whimpered, “Please no shots.” 

 

“It’ll hurt worse if we don’t.” The nurse replied. “Can you tell me what happened, Armin?” 

 

Armin turned to him and took a breath, trying to remember what had happened at the park. “I was playing with my friends, and Mr. Levi made us take a break. I wanted to do the monkey bars like Eren and Mikasa, but I fell.” 

 

“Who’s Mr. Levi?” 

 

Armin looked up at the nurse in confusion. How didn’t he know Mr. Levi? Everyone knew Mr. Levi. “Mikasa’s cousin.” 

 

“Who’s Mikasa?” 

 

“My best friend.” 

 

“And who’s Eren?” 

 

“My other best frie--” Armin cut off by a pressure in his injured arm. His head whipped around just in time to see a different nurse pushing a needle in his arm. He screamed again, but before he could pull his arm away, it was already out of him and being placed on a tray a little ways away from the bed. He looked up at the nurse in horror, and kept his eyes focused on the needle. Maybe they wouldn’t bring it near him again if he kept looking at it. 

 

After a few moments, he couldn’t feel the pressure where they’d given him the shot, and his wrist didn’t hurt nearly as bad anymore. Armin looked at it in confusion, wondering what the heck had happened, but before he could ask, the nurses were closing in on him again. 

 

“Okay, Armin, we’re gonna try to set your wrist now. Can you be brave for a few minutes, even if it starts to hurt?” 

 

Be brave… That was the same thing Mr. Levi had said to him before he left earlier. Even though he was scared about what “set his wrist” meant, he nodded. 

 

The nurse who asked him about his friends gently took his arm at the elbow and straightened it out and he and the other nurse started messing with it. It felt funny, being bent and twisted around like they were doing, and it freaked him out a little bit knowing that they were messing with his hurt arm. 

 

Tears rolled down his cheeks as they worked with it, but he didn’t scream. He didn’t want to disappoint Mr. Levi by not being brave like he promised he would. 

 

After a little while, they set his arm down, and with a smile, announced that it was good as new. Then they wrapped his arm up in plaster and cloth, and then laid out a bunch of different colored fiberglass wrapping for him to pick from. He stared at the colors for a few long seconds, trying to decide which one he wanted. He almost went for blue, but the pink eventually caught his eye. It reminded him a lot of his blanket at home, and he pointed at the pink wrapping with a smile. 

 

“You’re sure you want pink?” The female nurse asked him. 

 

“Yeah.” He replied, not taking his eyes off of it. 

 

Then his arm was held out again, and wrapped up to the elbow in pink wrapping, and then he was led out of the room and back down the hallway. 

 

He felt a lot calmer now that he couldn’t feel his arm, and now that it was colorful. Now he just wanted to see his grandpa again and go home. The nurse led him out into a different waiting room than before, and his eyes lit up when he saw his friends all there. He left the nurse’s side and ran straight for Eren and Mikasa, who were both glad to see he still had both arms intact. 

 

The three of them hugged, and Armin looked around at everyone who came to see him. Eren’s mother was standing beside Sasha’s dad, talking about something. Connie, Sasha, and Marco were standing a little ways away, Pokemon cards in hand, and trying to make a trade. The three walked up to them, and the others looked up, happy to see that everything was okay. 

 

After a few moments, Mr. Levi and his grandpa came to join everyone, both looking a little stressed but relieved that everything was okay. “The nurses said you did really good back there.” Mr. Arlert said, giving him a gentle pat on the head. “I was just telling Levi about it.” 

 

The older boy gave Armin a wink and headed over to his cousin, giving her a tap on the shoulder. “You ready to go home now that you know Armin’s okay.” 

 

Mikasa looked between Levi, Eren, and Armin, and after a moment, gave an affirmative, and the two headed out. Everyone else left shortly afterwards. 

 

On the way home, Armin actually got to sit in the front seat, so long as he didn’t tell anybody later. He was still small for eight years old, and by all accounts should have been buckled up in the back, but these were special circumstances, and his grandpa decided to indulge him a little just this once. 

 

Armin had never felt so grown up in his life. 

 

After his traumatic ordeal, Armin fell asleep on the couch shortly after dinner when they got home, and his grandfather just decided to leave him there. 

 

~

 

He woke up with a pillow under his head, and his favorite blanket draped over his body. With a smile, he pulled the covers back and wandered into the kitchen to find his grandpa already up and sitting at the table. The old man had a newspaper in his hand, and didn’t notice the boy walk up until he felt a tug at his arm. 

 

“You’re awake!” His grandpa said with a smile. “How’re you feeling this morning?” 

 

Armin yawned, crawling up into his chair, and thought for a second. “My hand feels weird.” 

 

“It will for awhile, but you’ll get used to it. And in eight weeks, you’ll be able to take that thing off and be back to normal.” 

 

Eight weeks. That didn’t sound too bad, he thought. Not when it was summer, and he had all kinds of things he could do. His grandpa got up after a moment and poured him a bowl of cereal, giving him an affectionate pat on the head as he walked by. Armin grinned at him before digging into his breakfast, not looking up until his bowl was completely empty. 

 

“Eren and Mikasa were talking about going swimming yesterday. Can I go with them?” He asked hopefully. Armin loved the water, and swimming was one of his favorite things to do in the summer. He looked forward to it every year; especially when Eren’s mom took them to the lake and he got to build sandcastles on the beach alongside it. 

 

His grandpa cleared his throat. “Well, Armin, you won’t be able to swim with that on.” He explained. 

 

“No, I can do it. I know I can.” He replied. 

 

“No, I mean you can’t get it wet, son. If you do, it’ll ruin the cast. You have to keep it out of the water. In fact, you’ll have to be really careful about what you do for awhile.” 

 

“But I promised I’d go.” Armin said. 

 

“Maybe you can go after you get your cast off. There’ll still be a little bit of summer left.” His grandpa shot him an encouraging smile that Armin couldn’t quite return. 

 

He lay his arm on the table, looking at the pink fiberglass covering his hurt arm, and frowned at it. Eight weeks without building sandcastles, or water gun fights, or swimming with his friends? What was he going to do? 

 

“How about this,” his grandpa started, “later today, we’ll go down to the library and you can check out as many books as you can carry. Whatever you want to get.” 

 

Armin lifted his head at that, a gentle smile tugging at his mouth. “Really?” 

 

“Sure.” 

 

His grandpa had opened his mouth to say something else, when they were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Who could that be this early?” he muttered to himself as he got up. Armin stayed in his seat, excited by the idea of checking out so many books, and was just thinking about getting up to get dressed when he heard his name being called. 

 

“Armin, it’s a friend of yours.” 

 

A friend of his? Armin slid off his chair and padded out to the living room, trying to peer around the old man to see who was there for him. 

 

Jean Kirstein stood at the door, not entirely able to meet his eyes, and muttered out a quiet “Hi, Armin.” 

 

His grandpa left, then, leaving the two boys to face each other alone. Armin didn’t know what to say, and it didn’t seem like Jean did, either. After a few awkward seconds, the taller boy finally looked up and said, “I’m sorry you got hurt.” 

 

Armin looked back to see where his grandpa was, and didn’t see him, told Jean to hold on, before venturing back to find him. “Grandpa?” He asked, “is it okay if I go outside?” 

 

His grandpa looked up, chuckling at him. “Of course it’s okay. But you might want to get dressed first, kiddo.” 

 

Armin cast a quick look at the door, but was ushered up to his room to get ready. “I’ll tell your little friend it’ll be a minute.” 

  
  


After a few moments, Armin came back downstairs, having had some trouble getting dressed with his arm like it was, and bounded up to the door, where Jean was still waiting for him. “Do you want to go out back?” he asked. 

 

“Okay.” Jean replied, following along behind the blonde as he led his friend through the house and out the back door. Jean hurried his way over to the rusty old swing set near the back of the yard, and plopped himself down on one of the swings. His eyes were fixed on his shoes as Armin walked up beside him, claiming the other swing for himself. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Jean muttered again. 

 

“It’s okay.” Armin said, kicking his feet gently to gain some momentum. “Mr. Levi said I just have butter fingers.” 

 

“What’s that?” 

 

“I ‘unno.” 

 

“Isn’t it a candy bar? Maman likes those, I think.” Jean said, copying Armin. 

 

Armin thought about that for a second. “I don’t have candy.” 

 

“Maybe Mr. Levi is getting you some.” 

 

“You can have it, I don’t really like candy.” 

 

“Why not?” 

 

“Just don’t.” Armin replied, pumping his legs back and forth while he swang. He kept his eyes forward, on the sky above him, and wanted to touch it. “Do you think I could touch the sky if I go high enough?” 

 

Jean looked up, eyes following him as he went back and forth, and then he looked up. “I ‘unno. The sky is pretty far away.” 

 

“I think I can do it.”

 

“No fair, I wanna touch the sky, too!” Jean started pumping his legs harder, trying to keep up with Armin as he gained momentum. 

 

Soon, both boys were almost level with the top of the swing set, and with their combined weight, the front poles lifted up and out of the ground, causing them both to panic. They didn’t know that would happen if they got that high up; the swings at the school didn’t do that. Armin slowed himself down, but Jean kept going for a few more swings. The front of the set went up again, and then Jean decided it was time to stop. He didn’t want to touch the sky that bad, after all. 

 

“That was scary.” He said after he slowed down. 

 

“I guess that has to happen when you want to touch the sky.” 

 

“I guess.” 

 

Things went quiet after that for a little bit, both boys scraping their shoes back and forth on the ground below them. Jean’s swing still had a little grass growing under it, but Armin’s didn’t; there was nothing but a dirt patch underneath it from all the afternoons spent right in this very spot. 

 

Eren didn’t like the swings very much - he prefered the glider next to it. There was a handle to hold onto, and it made a creaky sound whenever it was used. For whatever reason, Eren liked that sound. It freaked Armin out, like it was a monster or something equally as bad. 

 

“Do you want to dig for dinosaur bones?” Jean asked suddenly. 

 

Armin looked over at him, confused, and asked, “why?” 

 

The other boy shrugged. “Why not? If we find something, we could be famous. We might even find a new dinosaur and get to name it!” 

 

Armin considered this. It would be really neat to be famous for discovering and naming a new dinosaur, and his yard was big enough that he was  _ sure  _ there had to be  _ something  _ buried here. There just had to be. “Where do we dig?” 

 

Jean looked around for a few seconds, his eyes finally landing on the spot by Armin’s feet. “Right here. I’m sure we’ll find something here.” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

After looking around for a few moments, they still couldn’t find a shovel to start their dig with, and finally Jean got impatient waiting, so he grabbed a rock and began scooping the dirt away at Armin’s feet with that. Armin stood a little ways behind the other boy, not able to do much with his arm the way it was, and felt the excitement pulse through him at the idea of finding a dinosaur. 

 

Jean dug around for a little bit, determined to keep his eyes peeled for the first signs of anything and everything resembling a dinosaur, and after a little while, yelped and pulled his hand back. Armin immediately dove to his knees, looking to see what Jean had discovered, and grinned when he saw a bone sticking out of the dirt. “We did it!” He exclaimed. 

 

The taller boy calmed down after a moment or so, and together, the two excitedly unearthed several more small bones and tried assembling them as best as two eight-year-olds could do, and when it finally resembled something they thought looked dinosaurish, they gathered all of them up and rushed into the house, yelling for Mr. Arlert to come see what they found. 

 

They set the bones on the kitchen counter happily, showing off their discovery to the old man. He took a look at their find and grinned at them. “That’s a mighty good find you have there, boys. Where’d you find those?” 

 

“Out there!” Jean said, pointing to the swing set. “I told Armin we’d find a dinosaur!” 

 

Mr. Arlert chuckled, taking another look at the bones, and then turned to the boys. “Do you know what dinosaur they belong to?” 

 

Armin and Jean looked at each other in fear. They had no idea what kind of dinosaur bones they were, but they were sure that they’d found some. “Maman says that we’ll have to take them to a scientist and get them looked at.” 

 

“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” 

 

Jean nodded enthusiastically. “My maman told me all about dinosaurs and what to do if I find one. She says when I get older, I could become a pale… palin...pallen...a person who works with dinosaurs if I work hard.” 

 

“The best of luck to you. Now, why don’t you two wash your hands and go back out and play? I’ll clean your bones up for you and have them waiting for you when you get back.” 

 

The two boys grinned and, after Mr. Arlert made sure their hands were clean and disinfected, sent the two back out while he hid the chicken bones near the bottom of the trashcan. 

 

~~

Much to Armin’s surprise, Jean was back bright and early again the next morning. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder, and when he moved, Armin could hear something knocking around inside. He asked his grandpa if they could go play, and then they were off around back once again. 

 

Armin took his spot on the swing, looking curiously at Jean as he turned his backpack upside down and dumped the contents on the grass. Brightly colored plastic toys littered the ground at their feet, and Armin picked one up. It was pink from head to toe with no face to be seen. Armin didn’t usually play with things like that, and if he were being honest, the lack of facial features freaked him out a little. 

 

Jean looked up from sorting the toys and pointed at the figure in his hands. “That’s the Pink Ranger.” He said. 

 

“What’s that?” 

 

“From Power Rangers.” 

 

“Oh. I don’t know that.” 

 

“They kick butt.” Came the reply. 

 

After a quick crash course in all things Power Rangers, Jean finally let him pick out a couple more toys from the pile, and then Jean started attacking Armin’s toys with such ferocity he was worried the other boy was going to break them. There were a couple that transformed into animals, which Armin thought were cool, but he couldn’t get to work right with his arm in its cast.  Instead, he watched carefully as Jean messed with them, folding different pieces into each other, and grinned whenever they finally resembled the piece animal they were supposed to. After a few minutes, they had a couple tigers, a bull, a shark, and an eagle.

 

“Why do they do that?” He asked innocently. 

 

“Dunno. They just do.” Jean shrugged, getting started messing with a new toy. This one turned into a tiger with really long teeth. 

 

“That one’s cool.” 

 

Jean handed it to him when it was done. “These ones turn into dinosaurs. When you get all of them, they turn into a  _ super  _ dinosaur.” 

 

“Cool. Do you have more?” 

 

Jean looked down at his collection of toys and shook his head. “No, just this one. But Maman said maybe for my birthday I can get more.” He smiled at Armin, and they continued playing for a little longer before they both finally got bored, and Jean packed his toys away again. 

 

They took to the swings again for a little while, Jean telling him more about Power Rangers than Armin ever thought he would know. After a little bit of that, Jean got bored again, and suddenly hopped off his swing and stared at Armin. “Do you want to play Harry Potter?” 

 

“How do you do that?” Armin asked, scuffing his feet on the ground to stop his own swing. 

 

“Well…” Jean looked around the yard, hunting around for a minute until he found two good sized sticks, and handed one over to Armin. “You hold this, and you just shout spells at things.” 

 

“Oh.” Armin replied, looking down at his stick. 

 

“You need to protect me while I make a potion, okay?” 

 

“Okay.” Armin gripped the stick in his hand a little tighter, following along behind Jean as he dropped down to the dirt patch in front of him, digging around for a moment until he had a good sized hole dug, and began to rip up grass and throw it in. 

Armin kept a lookout for a few moments, eyes darting around the yard and trying to spot bad guys around every corner. He saw nothing, though, and eventually, he tapped Jean on the shoulder. “What am I supposed to be looking for?” He asked quietly, as if speaking in a normal volume would alert these strange enemies to their presence. 

Jean looked up from his potion and thought for a second, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he did so, and eventually, he whispered. “In that tree over there, there’s a nest of raptors. You need to keep them off of me until I get this done.”

Armin shot a cautious look to the tree, as if he could actually see the dinosaurs staring at him from the branches. He sucked in a sharp breath, clutching his stick tighter in his hands, and kept an eye out for danger. 

Every rustle of the leaves made him nearly jumping out of his skin; a few times, Armin was sure that he saw movement on the limbs, and sometimes, even a growl now and then. His hands shook, and he gulped, taking a gentle step just a little bit closer to the old tree. He needed to be brave, Jean was counting on him to keep a lookout. He threw a glance back over his shoulder to the taller boy, who’s back was still to him as he made the potion, and knew he was on his own here. 

Armin took a couple more quick steps towards the trunk of the tree and looked up. There didn’t seem to be anything moving up there, but he couldn’t be so sure. Hadn’t his grandpa told him that dinosaurs’ sight was based on movement? What if they were just waiting for him to move again before they attacked? He could feel eyes on him as he took another careful step forward. His stick was clutched so hard in his good hand that his fingers were turning white. 

Armin squinted up into the tree, trying to get a better look, when suddenly, a screech broke out above him, and suddenly, something small and red was flying at him with incredible speed. Armin screamed and fell back, tears already forming in his eyes because he knew he was going to die like this. 

He curled into a ball on the ground, unable to look up as the raptors attacked him, and lay there for a few seconds. When he didn’t feel anything eating him, he uncurled his head and peeked up. There was nothing there except a tan and red bird, which was screeching angrily at him for being too close to her nest. Armin blinked, furiously wiping the tears from his cheeks before Jean could see them, and crawled to his knees. 

The bird hissed at him, and he scrambled away in fear, hurrying back to his friend’s side to see how he was doing. 

Jean was still busy with his potion, and was busy ripping up a few leaves to add to the strange brew, and Armin had to wonder what he could be making that consisted of leaves, grass, dirt, and a few small pebbles. He didn’t want to question him, though, because Jean knew a lot more about Harry Potter than he did, and he seemed so confident that this would work… whatever it was. 

“I think this is ready.” Jean told him, rocking back onto his heels. 

“What do we do with it?” 

“Grab a handful, and then throw it at the tree. It’ll scare the raptors away and get rid of the nest.” 

Armin cast a nervous glance back at the tree, not feeling up for going back over there. Maybe the bird was in league with the dinosaurs, and really would come after him again if he got too close. But… if it meant that he’d be safe for the rest of the summer, it was a chance he had to take. 

“I left my stick over there.” he admitted, grabbing the biggest fist full of Jean’s potion that he could, and clutched it tightly in his hand. “So you’ll have to be lookout this time.” 

Jean grabbed a handful himself, and the two cautiously made their way back over to the tree. Armin could hear the fluttering of bird wings again, and, in a fit of panic, pushed Jean out of the way to protect him, and threw his dirt at the tree as hard as he could before taking the other boy’s hand, and running with him up to the house. He wasn’t taking any chances of getting attacked, and he couldn’t bear to see his friend be attacked in front of him. “That was close.” Armin said, eyeballing the tree nervously, as if the monsters would still jump out and come after them. 

“You were brave back there.” Jean told him. “Thanks for saving me.” 

Armin blushed at that. He wasn’t being brave, he just didn’t want to see Jean get eaten. “Want a snack?” he asked. With a nod from the other boy, he lead them inside to get something to eat. 

~~

It was becoming commonplace for Jean to show up in the mornings, and end up hanging around the whole day with him. Armin was grateful for it, because their two groups of friends were finally merging into one. Most of the time, Eren joined them, and the three got along pretty good for awhile. Then Mikasa started coming, too, and Jean wanted to hang out with her more than anybody else. Eren got really jealous really easily, and it usually resulted in some kind of a fight between he and Jean. 

Once it got so bad, Armin actually had to crack both of them on the head with his cast to get them to stop. He felt terrible after the fact, because both of the boys looked warily at him every time they got into a scuffle. 

  
  


After two weeks, he was able to go in and get a new cast, which only went to about mid-forearm. 

Armin sat in the car with his grandpa, and was recalling a bunch of stories about what he and Jean did in the mornings before Eren wandered over, and what the three of them did together in the afternoons. His grandpa chuckled and asked if he liked the boys coming over so much, and Armin confirmed that he did, that Jean had a bunch of cool toys he liked playing with, and a lot of fun games for them to play. It was so different than when he was with Eren; which he kind of appreciated. 

Eren and Mikasa enjoyed coming over and watching TV, or listening to stories Armin had about books he read with his grandpa. Armin liked telling them, he really did, but he also really, really enjoyed all of the adventures he went on with Jean in the backyard. He liked the danger of it, all of the monsters they encountered together, and ended up destroying (the raptors hadn’t come back as of yet, thank goodness). 

Although, it wasn’t to say that Jean didn’t enjoy listening to him talk, either. When Eren and Mikasa were there, the three sat down patiently while Armin recounted stories to them, and Jean was every bit as into it as the others. It made him feel good, knowing his friends appreciated them as much as he did. 

He was lead back to a room by his grandpa, and the same two nurses he had before were there to greet him once again. Armin was helped up onto a chair and instructed to hold his arm out. He was excited to get his new cast; this one made his arm really itchy, but he wasn’t allowed to scratch it. He didn’t know why, but Mr. Arlert made him promise not to touch it, whatever he did. 

Armin waited patiently and chatted with the female nurse while the male went around and got some equipment ready, and explained to her all about his new friend.

“Okay, Armin, this is gonna be loud, and it might look a bit scary, but I promise it’s safe.” The male nurse explained, holding up a tool that Armin couldn’t place. He held his arm out again, and the little machine started to  _ whirrr  _ loudly in his ears, which turned into a buzzing when it touched his cast. Armin could feel it vibrating his whole arm, and he twisted his head to look at his grandpa, fearful for what was happening to him. Mr. Arlert gave him a gentle smile, and patted his head. 

He turned back to the little saw, watching it nervously as it moved all the way along his arm. When it got to the wrist, a spark flew up and burned his hand, and instinctively, Armin tried to pull his hand back, which lurched everyone forward, and caused the saw to go a little off course, which in turn sent more sparks flying at the exposed bit of his hand. 

Armin yelped when they touched his skin, but wasn’t able to pull his arm free this time. When the cast was finally cut through, the nurses each took a side, and split it apart. His arm fell limply to the side, his elbow in immense pain from where it had been locked into a bent position for two straight weeks. 

For the first time in awhile, he could feel air breezing over his injured hand, and it felt so odd to him that it took a minute to realize what was happening. 

His reprieve didn’t last long, though, because after a moment of setting the split cast aside, his arm was being held up again as new plaster was put in place, and, after confirming that, yes, he still did in fact want pink for the color, and another wrap was placed over top of it. Armin was very glad to see that this one didn’t go up to his elbow, which meant he would be able to move around a little easier this time. 

  
  


The ache in his elbow didn’t lessen until late in the afternoon. He sat with Jean out on the swings, popsicles melting and dripping down their fingers, and they talked about the new Power Rangers toys that were coming up. These transformed, too, and Armin couldn’t wait until Jean brought them over to play with. 

When their popsicles were gone, the boys ran the sticks up to the house to throw away, and before they could run back outside, Mr. Arlert stopped them and held out a pen to Jean. “Do you want to sign Armin’s cast?” he asked. “I meant to ask you the first time, but I guess this old man forgot about it.” 

“Sure!” Jean said excitedly, taking the pen from Armin’s grandpa and uncapping it. He looked over the cast for a moment, the very tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he thought about the perfect spot to sign his name, and finally decided on the back of his hand. 

“Thanks.” He told Jean as he handed then pen back. Armin’s grandpa quickly signed it with a tiny little  _ “Grandpa”  _ along the side, nearby where the fracture was. 

Armin was grinning ear to ear as he looked at the signatures. He was so happy to have his friend and family sign his cast, and he wondered if anybody else would. After a few moments of thought, he looked up at his grandpa and pulled out the most innocent expression he could. “Grandpa, would it be okay if I asked everyone else to sign it, too?” 

“I don’t see why not, as long as Jean goes with you.” He replied. 

Armin snapped around to his friend, eyes wide and hopeful. “Will you go with me?” he asked. 

“Sure!” 

“Be back before six, Armin!” His grandpa called as the two boys darted from the house and down the street. 

~

Of course, the first stop was naturally Eren’s. The green-eyed boy lived with his mother a little ways down the street, and it had been just the two of them for as long as Armin could remember. He really liked Eren’s mom. She was a little hard on him sometimes, but she was always very nice to company (like her son), and always offered out treats when he went over. 

Carla answered the door and smiled when she saw who it was. “Hold on, boys, I’ll get Eren. He’s taking a nap.” 

“Mrs. Jeager,” Armin asked before she could get too far away. “Would you sign my cast, too?”  

Carla’s eyes darted down to the pink wrapping on his arm, and shot him a quick smile. “Of course I will!” 

After signing, she hurried off and went to wake Eren up, and left Jean and Armin there alone. Jean had never been to Eren’s before, and was looking around at everything there was to see. 

Eren’s father was a scientist, and left behind all kinds of neat looking things when he moved away. Armin’s favorite was a globe that sat on top of a bookshelf in the corner of the room. It wasn’t like anything he’d seen before. It was tan all over, and had ridges and bumps running all over it where the mountains were. He wanted to touch it, and feel the rough spots under his fingers, but it was too far up for him to even consider reaching. 

Jean was staring intently at a skull that sat in a curio cabinet on the opposite wall. Judging by the look on his face, he didn’t think too highly of the bleached white bit of bone that stared directly at whoever peeked in at it. Armin couldn’t say that he liked it all too much, either. Especially on the occasions when he’d stayed the night at Eren’s house, and felt it staring at him in the middle of the night. 

Another moment or so, and Eren came stumbling down the hallway, hair a mess and eyes still half closed in fatigue. “Hi.” he yawned at them. 

“Eren!” Armin started, hurrying up to his best friend. “Will you sign my cast? Please?” 

Eren blinked, still trying to wake up a little, and yawned again. “Sure.” He said. “How do I do it?” 

A couple minutes of allowing him to wake up later, and Eren had a pen in hand, writing his name in big, messy letters right across the middle. “There. Now everybody knows you’re  _ my  _ best friend!” He grinned triumphantly. Armin didn’t notice Jean sulk at that, or the glare he shot Eren’s way afterwards. 

When Eren was fully alert, he asked Carla if it was okay if he tagged along with the others while they went to get Armin’s cast signed, and after a moment of reluctance, she allowed him to go with them. 

  
  


Next on the list was Mikasa and Levi. 

Mikasa had been staying with her aunt and older cousin until her mother was released from the hospital. Mr. and Mrs. Ackerman had been driving home after a night out, and were sideswiped by a semi who shouldn’t have even been driving in the city in the first place. Her father was killed instantly, but her mother, though unconscious, showed signs of life. She’d been in a coma for six months now. 

Eren ran ahead of them and knocked, his tiny fist pounding rapidly at the door until Levi opened it and glared down at him. At sixteen, Levi had become the group’s unofficial babysitter/field medic, and he loved every second of it, no matter what he said to any of them. 

“It’s too early to go play, Eren.” He told him. 

“We know.” Eren replied. “We’re just here to see if Mikasa will sign Armin’s cast.” As if to emphasize this point, Armin raised his arms to show his cast and the sharpie he’d borrowed from his grandpa. “And you, too, Mr. Levi.” 

Levi’s face softened just a little at that, and he held up a finger to the boys while he disappeared to collect his cousin. Eren hurried back to the others, and the three stood together on the front sidewalk, shuffling their feet and occasionally looking up at the door. 

After a moment or so, the two Ackermans stepped outside and each took their turns signing Armin’s cast. Mikasa picked the spot right below Eren’s, her small signature looking even smaller compared to her friend’s, and Levi picked a spot near the bottom that was free. He took his time, making sure that it looked as cool as he could make it, and smirked to himself when it was done. “When you get done going around, if you have any space left, come back. I’ll do some artwork for you.” He said, recapping the pen and handing it to the blonde.

“Thank you, Mr. Levi!” Armin grinned. 

“Any time, kid.” 

After that, the boys asked if Mikasa wanted to tag along, but Levi explained they were planning on going up to the hospital in a little while to see Mrs. Ackerman, and she needed to stay there. They all said their goodbyes, and next, Jean lead them to Marco’s place, followed by Connie and finally Sasha. 

  
  


Everyone else had tagged along with them, and before they really even knew it, they were all back at Armin’s, crowded in the small backyard and taking turns fighting over the swings, slide, and glider. After being pushed out of the way while his friends fought over it, Armin gave up and went to play off on his own at the opposite end of the yard. 

He could hear Eren and Jean bickering over something, but didn’t bother to turn around; They would sort themselves out eventually. 

After a few more moments, Armin jumped at a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and Jean was standing there, obviously having lost the fight with Eren, and sat down beside him in the grass. “Can I play with you?” He asked. “Eren’s being mean.” 

“Sure!” 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

“Lookin’ at rocks.” 

Jean’s eyes found the pile of small rocks at Armin’s feet and picked one up, turning it around in his fingers and watching as it caught the light. “Maybe we could find a diamond, or a bunch of rubies and have to fight off pirates looking for their buried treasure!” 

Armin quickly took the rock out of Jean’s hands and put it back into the pile. The last thing he wanted was to fight off a band of treasure-hungry pirates. Not after he’d spent a good portion of his week fighting off raptors (Jean’s potion didn’t work), and he wasn’t up for any more kinds of adventures right now. He just wanted to look at rocks. 

~~~

He hadn’t noticed the nest being there at all before. He didn’t know birds nested in anything but trees. Armin stood, frozen in spot where he’d been climbing up the slide, and stared directly at the bluejay that was hissing at him from the bush right behind it. He didn’t know what to do; if he moved, the bird would chase him, but if he stayed, it would come after him. Armin didn’t even take his eyes away from it in fear of what would happen. The boy gulped, fingers gripping the broken, faded plastic in his hands, and tried to think of what would be the easiest for him to do. 

The house was a long ways away, and he wasn’t a very fast runner. But he didn’t want to be pecked to death either. 

Jean wasn’t there with him to help him create a distraction today. The other boy had caught a summer flu, and was stuck at home, camped out in his bathroom. He’d been allowed to call Armin early in the morning, and the two boys talked for nearly a half hour before Jean’s breakfast decided it wanted an encore. 

Armin was completely on his own. 

The bluejay hissed again, and Armin gasped in fear, quickly rolling back into a standing position and taking off at a full sprint to the house. He could hear the unfolding of the bird’s wings behind him, and a second later, he was being divebombed by the angry mother, who kept hissing at him all the way up to the back porch. He screamed, feeling a pinch at his fingers he was using to shield his head, and tripped over his own feet once he got to the concrete. The bird flew at him again, and Armin curled into a ball in an attempt to protect his head. The bird cawed angrily, sputtering at him with everything she had in her, and the blond rolled himself over onto his stomach, pushed himself to his feet, and quickly opened the door and slammed it shut behind him once he was safe. 

The bluejay flung herself at the window in a final attempt to attack, and Armin yelped, jumping back and shutting the storm door before he could watch her do it again. 

“Armin?” Came his grandfather’s voice from the other room. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah.” he replied, turning his back to the door and going off in search of the old man. 

Mr. Arlert was in the living room, carefully sliding a pair of shoes on his feet, and huffing out a rough breath. “I was just about to come get you. Since Jean isn’t coming today, what would you say to finally going to the library like we wanted to?” 

Armin’s eyes lit up at the idea of going to get some books, and he grinned hugely at his grandfather. “Really?!” He asked. 

“Go get your shoes.” 

The blond rushed back to his room and grabbed the first pair of shoes he could find and sprinted back into the living room, shoving them on the wrong feet in his haste. The old man chuckled, not bothering to correct him. Armin shot out of the house like a lightning bolt, and he smiled after him. 

  
  


The library was even bigger than Armin remembered to be. It was only his second time there, and he’d forgotten the vast scale of it. He looked around wide-eyed and followed after his grandfather without really knowing where he was going. 

They ended up in the children’s area, and Armin picked out several books for himself, and another several to take to Jean later. Mrs. Kirstein said he was allowed to come see Jean as soon as he had stopped throwing up so much, and he wanted to be ready for it. His grandpa lead him over to the DVDs and picked up a few for them to watch later on.

He knew they should have left soon after that, but Armin didn’t want to go just yet. The library was his small little heaven, and he wanted to soak up as much of it as he could. He wandered around, his books clutched tightly in one arm, and the other grabbing his grandpa’s hand. 

Natural light shone in from the slanted skylight that cut down the middle of the roof and bounced around all over the building, casting long shadows on the bookshelves and making the spines of the books shimmer in its warmth. The dark purple walls that made up the children’s area shone a little brighter, thanks to the sun and the glass block wall beside it. Armin could see dust motes dancing here and there, caught in the rays of sun. The bookshelves themselves were made of light-colored, fake wood that made the whole place feel even more inviting and welcoming. 

They wandered around a little longer, his grandpa telling him how the “reserved” shelves worked, and showing him where the teen area was, along with the grown up movies, and the small computer lab that was adjacent to the teen area, and everything else in between. 

Armin loved all of it. 

  
  


When they finally left, Armin was sitting in the back seat catty-cornered to his grandpa, and stared out the window at the rapidly shrinking building, and sighed happily. “Grandpa?” he asked. “Do you think I could work at the library someday?” 

He saw his grandpa’s kind, brown eyes watching him from the rearview mirror, and the old man replied, “Armin, you can do anything you want to do. If you think you want to work at the library when you grow up, then it’s in your power to make it happen.” 

The little boy smiled at him and turned back to the books in his lap. He would become a librarian one day, he decided. He wanted to spend every day in that place if he could. 

~~~

Armin was allowed to visit Jean two days later. His fever had broken, and he was managing to keep his food down again if he didn’t take things too fast. He was still coughing, and his nose hadn’t stopped dripping at all, but he was beginning to feel a lot better. 

His grandpa was hesitant at first to let him go, but he eventually allowed it when he saw how sad the idea of being separated from his friend any longer made him. So the two walked down the street to Jean’s house, Armin’s free hand clutching the books he planned on taking to the other boy, and he chatted happily with the old man as they made their way. 

Jean’s house was a little run down, with a broken shutter hanging off the side of the house, a privacy fence with a hole kicked through it, and two very large trees that had taken over the yard and were very slowly working their way towards the waterline that ran into the house. It also desperately needed new siding and a fresh coat of paint, but Jean’s mother was too busy to worry about it. 

His father didn’t give a shit about any of it, and was content with letting it all go to hell. 

Mr. Arlert stood back off the porch, allowing Armin to go ahead on his own and knock on the door. The young boy looked back at his grandpa, but he just urged him to do it himself. He did, and Jean’s mother appeared a moment later, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, Armin, it’s you.” She said, “Jean is in his room.” 

Armin followed Mrs. Kirstein back to Jean’s small bedroom, and shyly peeked in while she knocked. “Jeanie?” she called gently. “Your friend Armin is here to see you.” 

She gently nudged Armin inside, and the blonde shuffled his way over the threshold, just as Jean was beginning to sit up in his bed. He looked terrible. His eyes were half closed, matted together by an excess of sleep. A tissue hung from his nose, and his lips were chapped and split in several places. “Hey,” he croaked sleepily. 

“Hi. I brought you some books.” Armin said, holding up his small stack for his friend to see. 

Jean’s eyes lit up for half of a second, and then darkened again. “Maman says if I touch anything, I’ll get germs on it and make everyone sick.” 

Armin looked around the room, an idea already forming in his head. He needed something to sit on, but didn’t see anything that would help him out too much. Finally, he crawled up on Jean’s bed, keeping himself near the other boy’s feet in hopes that it would be enough to protect him from the germs. “How about I read  _ to  _ you?” He suggested. 

Jean sat up a little straighter, propping his pillows up between his back and the wall, and fixed his eyes on the blond. “Okay.” 

“Pick one out.” 

Jean chose the first book and settled back, leaning his head gently against the wall and waiting for Armin to get started. 

The blond looked at the other boy, holding the book as close to his nose as he could, and hoped Jean wouldn’t see him blushing. He didn’t like reading out loud if he could help it; he always ended up stuttering, or going too fast and having to wait awkwardly while his brain caught up with his eyes. There wasn’t any other choice, though. 

Finally, he pulled the book down a little bit and began to read. 

Jean sat higher up against his pillows after a few moments of listening to Armin, the sandy haired boy drawn in by the other’s voice. Armin recited the lines on the page nervously, and Jean caught him peeking at him out of the corner of his eye occasionally, and the tip of his nose would turn pink with embarrassment. He liked liked listening to him, though; the only other person who would read to him was his mother, and it had been a long time since she had. 

Armin occasionally stumbled over a big word, but he tried to brush it off as no big deal as he continued on. Eventually he found his stride, and his grip on the novel and his posture relaxed just a little as he went on. He was happy to see Jean seemed interested in his choice, and he couldn’t wait to go home and tell his grandpa about it. 

He kept going for nearly an hour, when Mrs. Kirstein knocked on the door and poked her head in. “Armin? Your grandpa called, he’s going to come pick you up in a minute.” 

“Okay.” Armin closed the book and slid off of Jean’s bed, gathering up his small stack, and was about to say goodbye, when Jean stopped him. 

“Can you...come back tomorrow and keep reading?” He asked, and Armin saw the desperation on his friend’s face for company. 

 

The blond thought about this for a minute. “I’ll try.” he decided on. “But how about you keep the book in case I can’t?”

“Okay.” Jean said, a little dejectedly. “Thanks for coming, Armin.” 

Armin shot him a smile, setting the book down beside the other boy, and waved. “I’ll try to come back. See ya.” He waved goodbye to his friend, and hurried out, saying a quick goodbye to Josephine before heading outside to wait for his grandpa.

~~~

As it turned out, he  _ was _ allowed to go back the next day. He called Jean’s house early in the afternoon, relieved to hear Jean’s mother on the other end, and asked if he could come back for another visit. He twirled the cord of the phone nervously in his fingers as she went to check on her son, and see if he felt up for some company, and came back with a confirmation after a few moments. 

He relayed the good news to his grandpa, and at 2:00, Armin was skipping his way down to Jean’s house. 

He knocked at the door with his good hand and took a few steps back in case someone came, and when nobody did, he knocked again. Jean’s father came to the door, looking down at him with a glare, and said nothing. “Is Jean awake?” He asked timidly. The only reply he got was an incline of the head back towards the back of the house, and the screen door opening. Armin hurried through and back to Jean’s room. He poked his head inside, and saw Jean sitting pretzel-legged on the floor, looking up at his TV. Armin could hear the clicking sounds of his friend furiously pressing buttons on a controller, and waited until he was killed before announcing his presence. “Hi,” he said. 

Jean bent his head back, looking at Armin upside down, and grinned hugely when he saw him. He quickly saved his game and then turned it off, then got to his feet and went to greet his friend. “Hi!” 

“Do you wanna keep reading?” He asked, the tip of his nose once again turning pink. 

Jean nodded back to him enthusiastically, and quickly took the same spot as the day before, waiting for Armin to crawl up with him. “I didn’t touch the book in case you came back.” He explained, his eyes landing on it sitting atop his dresser. Armin grabbed it and started back to Jean’s bed, skimming over the pages to find out where he’d left off the day before. When he found his place, he climbed back up and sat a little ways away from the other boy, and began to read again. 

Jean found himself drawn in much the same way he was the day before, and sat with his chin in his elbows and a grin on his face. He really did like listening to Armin read, especially when he relaxed and really got into the story.

Before long, they’d finished the novel, and both boys sat there looking at it for a moment in awkward silence. They hadn’t expected it to go so quickly, and Armin had taken all the other books home with him the day before, so they didn’t have anything else there that was new. 

“Do you wanna play a game with me?” Jean asked, gesturing to his game system on the floor. 

Armin didn’t really play video games too much, but he had enough experience to know that he wasn’t very good. He shook his head. “I’ll watch you.” 

Jean grinned and slid off the bed, back onto the floor, and turned the system on again. After a moment or two, the screen flashed with the GameCube logo, and then a screen flashed up with the name of the game. It was based off of a show Armin had heard about through both Jean and Eren, but hadn’t ever watched himself. All he knew about it was that there were aliens, and all the characters dressed in orange jumpsuits and yelled all the time. It scared him a little, if he were being honest with himself. 

Still, though, he curled up into a ball on Jean’s bed and watched as characters hovered above the ground and fought each other. He got bored listening to the yelling after a little while, and instead let his eyes wander around the room some. 

Jean had a couple posters from the show the game was based off of hung up on the wall behind his bed, and a bigger, older one of a guitar on the far wall. Armin liked the guitar poster; it was bright and colorful, and the design of the instrument itself always appealed to him. There was a a two-shelved bookshelf tucked in the corner beside his dresser, and it was stuffed with comic books and old novels his mother used to read to him. Armin noticed a lot of them were about horses. 

Tucked away in front of his bed and next to the wall on the other side, was a giant black toy chest, open and spilling different figurines out onto the floor. Armin saw a couple familiar ones that Jean had brought for them to play with a few times before, and even more that he didn’t know. Part of him wanted to rummage through them and have Jean explain them, but he didn’t want to interrupt him while he was playing his game. Eventually, Armin turned back to the screen and watched, not really sure what was going on, but knowing whatever it was had to be good, considering the noises Jean was making from the floor. 

  
  


At 4:00, his grandpa came to pick him up, and Jean promised that he’d be over to play the next day. He felt much better, he insisted, and he’d be back up to playing outside again by the following afternoon. Armin went back home with his grandpa, who made sure he got a big bowl of chicken soup for dinner, with a dose of cold medicine and a chaser mug of vinegar with honey, “just in case”, he told him. 

It was all gross to him, but he knew it eased the old ma’s mind a little. His grandpa had done this every time Eren or Mikasa caught a cold, too, just to try warding off any germs that he could. Armin had asked him why, once, and he explained that when old people got sick, sometimes it could take a long time for them to get over it, if they ever did. Armin didn’t quite understand, but he knew he didn’t want his grandpa getting sick, so he went along with his strange ritual, and made sure he was tucked into bed by 8:30. 

~~~

“Armin, your friend is here.”

Jean had been true to his word, and bright and early the next morning, he was knocking on the front door, backpack slung over one shoulder and his face somehow already streaked with dirt. Armin had still been asleep in his room, laying on his stomach with a small stream of drool pooled on the pages of the book he’d been reading when he passed out, and according to his grandpa he’d been calling him for five minutes. 

Armin pushed himself up, vision still blurred and mouth dry, and sat still a moment as things came into focus. His grandpa was directly in front of him, his kind and weathered face staring directly down at him and the early morning sunlight created dust motes near the window. Armin yawned a good morning, and was on his way to crawling out of his bed when he noticed a smaller figure standing near the doorway. He blinked again and suddenly was aware of Jean there, looking much better than even the day before. 

Armin grinned, waving a quick hello to his friend, and got up. He told them both he’d be ready in a minute, and the two of them left to give him some privacy while he dressed. 

Mr. Arlert had insisted that he eat something before going out to play, but Armin didn’t want to keep his friend waiting more than he already had, so he grabbed his toast and hurried out back to get his morning started. 

Jean was waiting for him on the swingset, and Armin plopped down beside him, swinging gently while he ate his first slice. He could feel eyes on him and looked over, seeing Jean eyeballing the second piece. The sandy haired boy realized he’d been caught and turned away, his cheeks red from embarrassment from being caught. “Sorry.” He muttered. 

Without hesitation, Armin reached out and handed the bread to him. “Here. I’ll share.” 

Jean’s eyes flickered down to the offered food and took it, gingerly taking a bite. He stayed quiet for a moment while he chewed, grateful for his friend’s kindness. “Maman forgot breakfast this morning.” He explained. “And Dad wouldn’t help.” 

Armin shuffled his feet on the dirt spot underneath him, not knowing what to say, and stared at the house. He knew Jean’s mother was busy, according to the other boy, she worked two jobs and often was so frazzled in the mornings that breakfast was forgotten about more than once a week. She tried, he said, but sometimes it was overwhelming. His father liked to pretend Jean wasn’t even there, and ignored him as much as possible. “You can eat with Grandpa and me if you want.” He offered. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah!” 

Jean returned Armin’s grin and got started on a rant about the game he was playing yesterday when the blond was there. Armin still didn’t know much about it or what his friend was talking about, but he enjoyed hearing him talk about it all the same. 

~

“I dare you to eat it.” 

Armin’s eyes followed the row of ants leading away from his grandmother’s peonies as he tried to figure a way out of this. He knew his grandpa would be upset with him for doing what Jean suggested, seeing as the ants weren’t hurting anybody and were just doing their job, but he also didn’t want Jean to tease him for chickening out, either. “I’ll do it if you do it.” He said. 

Jean watched the line of ants moving along for a few seconds, looking for the right one. Finally, he picked up what had to have been one of the biggest ants Armin had ever seen in his life, and placed it in the other boy’s palm. “You gotta eat it. It’s just like Fear Factor.” He told him. 

Armin hesitated. He didn’t think this was right of him to do; the ant wasn’t hurting him, and what if he didn’t chew it and it gave birth to more ants in his stomach? Would they eat him from the inside out? What if the ant didn’t die, and ended up getting stuck in his throat and strangle him to death while trying to escape? What if he caught an ant disease? What if he turned  _ into  _ an ant? He could feel panic pooling deep in his stomach as the thoughts spiraled around in his brain, and almost backed out right then. But… 

But maybe Jean would like him better if he did it. Maybe he could gain some respect from his friend, and he’d keep coming around after his cast was off. 

Armin sucked in a deep breath and shoved the ant in his mouth. He pinched his eyes shut, chewing it as fast as he could while trying not to taste it in his mouth, or hear the crunch as he did so. He quickly swallowed, then opened his mouth to show Jean that it was really gone. “Your turn.” He said. 

Jean paled a little, eyes flickering to the line of ants, and shook his head. “I’m not eating one of those!” 

“I did! You promised!” 

“I’m not eating one!” 

“That was the deal, Jean!” 

“No!” 

“That’s not fair!” Armin glared and stalked away from the peony bush, throwing himself down onto one of the swings, and stared straight ahead. He couldn’t believe Jean wasn’t going through with his side of the deal. 

He could hear grass shifting behind him, and after a minute, Jean appeared out of the corner of his eye, and gingerly took the other swing. “I’m sorry.” He murmured. “I’m scared of bugs.” 

“S’okay.” 

Jean stared at his feet, feeling guilty for not following through, but still not being able to finish his task. He didn’t plan on Armin actually going through with it, which is why he made the deal in the first place. He’d been hoping that the blonde would be just as afraid of bugs as he was, and would end up throwing it down or something in protest. 

He wondered what Armin thought of him now. 

He probably thought he was a big baby for not doing it. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, and Jean knew right then and there, Armin probably wouldn’t want to hang around with him anymore because of this. Jean glanced back at the peony bush, wondering if it was too late to make this right, and shuddered. He couldn’t stand the thought of putting a bug in his mouth and chewing it up, or accidentally swallowing it while it was still alive. 

Why did he think it was okay to make Armin do it? 

“Do you want to play checkers?” 

Jean looked up at the sound of the blond’s voice, a little disoriented after being pulled out of his thought spiral, and blinked. “What’s that?” 

“It’s a game.” He explained. “My grandpa’s been teaching me how to play.” Armin slid off his swing and waited for Jean to do the same, then lead him up to the house and inside. 

Still sitting on the kitchen table was an old, hand-painted checkerboard in the shape of a watermelon. Beside it in a baggie were the pieces, carved to look like seeds. Armin pulled out a chair and sat down and began to sort everything out between the two of them, and Jean took the other seat. 

He kept his eyes on Armin’s hands as he quickly separated the white and black pieces and quickly went over the rules. Jean wasn’t sure he understood completely, but he assumed he’d pick it up as they went on. He copied the other boy in setting up his white seeds on the board, and allowed Armin to go first so he could see what to do. 

He moved his first piece, and Armin moved another, and the game went on. 

Armin’s eyes lit up when they were only a square away from each other, and the other boy double jumped his pieces, capturing two of them for his own pile. Jean frowned; he obviously hadn’t been paying enough attention to Armin’s pieces. 

The blond captured another two in his next turn, and Jean was beginning to get frustrated. Armin was anhiliating him! 

The game was over in another few turns, and Jean crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the board. Stupid game, anyways. He looked up, and was about to say something about the game being dumb, when he caught the look in his friend’s eye; he almost looked sad over the fact he’d won. Armin’s eyes fell to the board, and he began to put things away. The anger immediately drained from his face, and he felt terrible, knowing he was the reason for Armin’s hurt. 

“No, wait.” Jean said, grabbing his friend’s wrist. “I wanna play again.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah! I gotta practice in order to beat you someday!” 

The tip of Armin’s nose turned pink, and he gathered the pieces before setting the board up again. 

~

“Ready to go?” 

Armin looked up from the book he was reading, and grinned at his grandpa. Today was the day! He was finally getting his cast off! He slid off the bed and hurried passed the old man to get his shoes, beyond excited to get the full use of his hand back. There was just enough of summer left that maybe he really  _ could  _ go swimming with his friends before they went back to school. 

Once they were loaded in the car, they passed by an upset looking Jean heading over to the house. “Grandpa, hold on!” Armin called, rolling down the window while his grandpa stopped by the curb. “Hi, Jean!” 

“Hey. Where ya goin’?” Jean asked, looking between the Arlerts. 

The blond held up his cast, grinning at his friend. “I’m getting my cast off today!” 

“Cool.” 

Armin noticed that the sandy-haired boy looked like he had tears in his eyes, but he wasn’t sure why. “Do you wanna play when I get home?” He asked. 

Jean gave a nod as a reply. “Yeah. Do you… care if I hang around your place for awhile?” 

Armin leaned up in his seat, and asked his grandpa if that was okay, to which Mr. Arlert shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll be back soon. See, ya, Jean!” 

The other boy waved as the car pulled away, and Armin settled back against his seat, happy about the knowledge that he’d have a friend to play with when he got home. 

  
  


The doctor’s visit was short. Mr. Arlert set Armin up on a hospital bed, and he sat there with his feet dangling in front of him, talking to his grandpa for a little while until the doctor came in with the same saw as before. Fear ignited in the small boy’s eyes, and he instinctively pulled his arm in close to his chest and scooted closer to his grandpa, not wanting the thing to burn him again. 

“How’re you feeling today, Armin?” the doctor asked. 

“Do you have to use that again?” Armin asked, still eyeballing the machine. 

Noting the look on the blond’s face, the doctor smiled and brought it over close to him so he could see it. Armin shrank back a little, not wanting it anywhere  _ near  _ him, but the man said, “It won’t hurt you, Armin. It looks a lot worse than it actually is.” The memory of the sparks hitting his skin ran through Armin’s mind, and he knew the doctor was lying. Mr. Levi’s words came back to him.  _ Be brave.  _ Okay. He’d be brave. 

“Okay.” Armin said, holding his arm out. 

The doctor smiled at him and held the boy’s arm in his hand. “It looks like you’ve got a lot of signatures on here. I’ll try not to ruin any of them, okay?” 

“Okay.”

The saw was turned on, and with a tiny whimper, Armin closed his eyes and held his arm as still as possible while the blade vibrated his entire arm as it cut through the plaster. In a moment, it was all over, and his arm sagged once it was free. It was so odd to see his actual arm again without the pink wrappings over it; the skin was way lighter than the rest of him, and slightly damp with sweat. And it itched like  _ crazy.  _

“Do you want to keep your cast?” 

Armin looked up at his grandpa for permission, and the old man nodded. “Of course you can.” 

“Yeah, I want it.” Armin said, and the thing was handed to him. It was in two parts now, and the cut ran right down the middle of the small “ _ Grandpa”  _ that had been etched onto the wrist. The boy frowned, but said nothing. There were a few follow up questions, and then they were free to go. 

  
  


Jean was still waiting for them when they got back. Armin was out of the car before it fully stopped and ran around to the backyard, finding his friend waiting for him on the swings. Jean looked a little better than he did earlier, and Armin proudly showed him his now freed hand. “It feels weird.” He told his friend. 

“It  _ looks  _ weird.” 

“Grandpa says it’s because there wasn’t a lot of air getting to it in the cast.” Armin explained, gently kicking his feet in the dirt. 

“Oh.” Was all Jean said. He was quiet for a few moments, keeping his eyes on the ground while the two swung, and that sad look crossed his face again. 

“Jean? Are you okay?” 

The other boy’s face pinched up a little, and it looked like he was trying not to cry. “Do you… Still want to be friends now that your hand is okay?” 

What? Armin stopped swinging and looked at the other boy, a little hurt by his words. “Yeah! You’re one of my best friends, Jean! I like playing with you a lot.” 

“Really?” 

“Mhm! You’re fun.” 

Relief crossed his friend’s face and he jumped up off the swing, taking Armin’s hand and dragged him back to the spot where Armin’s pile of rocks was still set up. “C’mon, let’s see if we can find buried treasure!” 

Armin was gladly dragged along behind the other boy, and the two dug around for new rocks until Mr. Arlert made them come in for a break from the heat. 

When Jean first started coming around, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He and Jean had been friends, yes, but not close enough to hang out on their own. That summer had quickly changed things, and Jean quickly became one of the most important parts of his life - a part he knew it would all but kill him to lose. 

He supposed that broken bones, while painful, did have their benefits. At least when those benefits were in the form of Jean Kirstein. 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day everyone! This has been sitting in my drafts since last July, and it was killing me not to have it done. I figured today was as good a day as any to finish it and post it!!!   
> This fic is part of a bigger one that I'll hopefully be starting later on this year, and it acts as a prequel about how Armin and Jean became friends. :)


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